Winter is Here?

I sat down to write, and then I put the final Gilmore Girls episode on, and now I feel deflated. I loved GG in high school – my family would record it and watch it religiously (until it got weird), and then Charlie, Zoe and I re-watched it in uni years with our cheese toasties when it became the Channel 4 lunchtime show. I was very Rory, which is probably partially why I liked it – she was the first real TV character I could relate to and sort of look up to, who made it ‘cool’ to be kind of geeky and good at school but also do things other than school. I didn’t really have any expectations for this whole revival thing (other than to park myself on my couch with a glass of wine and some ice cream and hopefully get some good ol’ Michel ennui chat), but I don’t know what to think about adult Rory, other than I’ve spent half the time shaking my head (…mostly at the song-and-dance interludes going on?) and half the time trying not to draw painful parallels.

Crazy, unexpected sunset. #porchviews

Anyway. I’ll skip going through what could turn into a lengthy discussion of WB-show characters I was mildly obsessed with (Ephram from Everwood, anyone? George from Heart of Dixie? (Yes, I watched that show. Heart eyez for days.) Seth from the OC (obvi)? Sighs.) and segue not-so-gracefully into what I was actually going to write about, which was a rather unexcited series of ski-chat. There is no graceful segue for that.

For some reason, top of the cushion is now the preferred position.

Real life lately has been mostly outdoors and in the cold.

After a really nice Thanksgiving spent (totally unintentionally and unexpectedly) with half a room of British people (and half a room of children, most under the age of two), I spent Friday running for awhile along the lake to get a break from running through fluffy snow and then snuck out for a short sunset ski to check out Boreal (which is 20 minutes away and has cheap night skiing)… and then I spent the weekend at training to learn how to teach skiing.

Sparkly midday snow.

A few things on that whole adventure:

No. 1: Usually all-day training things are horrible and long; I totally had a blast with this. I think it was partially the whole getting to be outside thing, but I mostly really, really enjoyed meeting the people doing it. We were split into different small groups for both days, and it was just extremely pleasant to get to know a whole range of people from totally different paths in life.

No. 2: It was completely back to basics ski-wise. I haven’t taken a proper lesson in years (…I may have only taken one or two proper ski lessons ever?), but it was surprisingly difficult to shift back to skiing down flat slopes in wedges and focus on specific aspects of how to actually ski. I will absolutely be doing further training (I think we have to to move up in certifications), because it was so helpful to break it down technically, even if we barely did anything. I would also 100% recommend anyone learning to ski does take a few lessons at different stages to get it right from the start.

Powder tracks.

No. 3: I’m much less anxious about how to actually teach now, although I’m fairly sure most of my initial lessons are going to be teaching kids how to put on skis, and that’s about it. I’ll be spending the next few weeks coming up with a stash of games to play and trying to remember what it was like to be age 9. We still have another weekend of formal training and the a weekend of shadowing before I really get let loose at least, although it’ll be baptism by fire the week after Christmas.

Ski selfie?

I discovered today that it takes 15 minutes for me to walk out of my front door, hop on the shuttle (I’ve befriended all of the drivers this week), get my kit from my locker, and be on a lift… which meant I spent lunch skiing for an hour. It was so doable, it might become deadly. Lunchtime on weekdays is clearly the time to go – I pretty much had the entire mountain to myself to bounce between the groomed trails and some side ones (which are still a tiny bit thin on cover… navigating moguls and branch hazards is fun?!).

Mountain sunrise.

I had a moment running back up the hill to my house yesterday morning where I was hit with what’s probably best described as ‘contentment and calm’, and I actually stopped (and almost fell over, thank you, black ice) because it was such a ‘wait, is that actual happiness right now?!’ sort of moment that I haven’t had in a really long time that is was alarming. Of course, it was immediately followed by my more familiar panic of ‘what sort of ball is now going to drop’… but for that moment, it was there. I felt kind of like myself and like I can actually do this? Everything might be okay?

This is a good thing.


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